


Names We Give Our Mistakes

by crazygirlne



Series: The Names We Give [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Love, Not a reveal fic, Though a follow-up might be, post 3x17, resolved angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 22:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13961448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazygirlne/pseuds/crazygirlne
Summary: Lucifer talks to Linda, then decides who he really needs to be talking to is Chloe, before it's too late. He hopes it's not too late already.





	Names We Give Our Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> I saw gifsets from last night’s episode and immediately had to start writing a post-ep fixit. I wrote most of this while actually watching the episode. Spoilers from Lucifer ep 3x17, picks up just after the end. Ignores the promo for next week. 
> 
> First foray into writing Deckerstar. I don’t intend to make a habit of it, but then, I didn’t intend to write this, either.

As usual, Linda doesn’t give him all the answers, simply gently (mostly gently, at any rate) prods him until he comes to his own conclusion, no matter how accurate that conclusion may be, no matter how potentially life-shattering, life-altering. He needs to tell Chloe everything before he loses her for good. Sure, he's pushed her away, done things that should chase her off, but there's never been a part of him that was truly okay with her no longer being in his life. And he can't keep her if he's always afraid of her getting caught up in a battle she doesn't understand. 

He's never felt so much like he's about to lose her. 

Lucifer takes a fortifying breath, picturing again when Chloe walked away with  _ Cain. _ “You’re right,” he tells his therapist. “It’s time for me to show her the truth. No interruptions this time.”

“Didn’t you say she’s on a date?” Linda ventures. “Maybe it would be best if—”

“You cannot seriously be suggesting I let that dangerous charade continue to any sort of conclusion, can you?” Lucifer stands, feeling his non-existent Devil face trying to make an appearance, millenia of having the upper hand (with everyone but dear old Dad, of course) snapping back into place.

Linda knows him too well, or perhaps not well enough. In his current tumultuous state, he’s not sure which. Regardless, she’s not intimidated in the slightest, and a distant part of him recognizes gratitude that she doesn’t take his stance as a threat. “First, I don’t think you actually believe he’ll hurt her tonight.” She continues without hesitation when he opens his mouth to protest. “Second, what do you think happens, Lucifer, if you confront a desperate, immortal murderer when he thinks Chloe is his way out? When you are at your most vulnerable?” She’s calm but insistent, and Lucifer sinks back into the couch. 

Lucifer bows his head, looking down at folded hands. “I can’t just let this happen. I can’t just…” He swallows. “I cannot lose her, Linda.”

“I agree.” Linda is emphatic, and Lucifer lifts his head enough to meet her eyes. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t tell her. I’m not saying you should keep away like you were so determined to earlier. I’m only saying to be careful. If you’re not, someone is going to get hurt, and you might not be able to fix it.”

She’s right, of course. He needs to do this properly. If he doesn’t, the detective is at risk, and isn’t avoiding that exact situation precisely why he’s found himself here in the first place?

She needs to know. She needs to know everything.

And she needs to know it tonight.

He leaves, retreating to his penthouse, considering his options. As he reaches his haven, he settles on something simple. It’s not a voicemail this time, but his careful text should prevent her from considering any additional activities with Marcus after the concert.

_ I need to speak with you at your earliest convenience. In my penthouse. Please, Detective. _

Even if she’s upset with him, she won’t ignore his request. He knows she won’t. He pours himself a drink, more for the feel of the glass in his hand than anything else, and settles in to wait. He doesn’t have to wait long before he hears the elevator, and he knows it’s her before he even turns to look.

“Detective,” he greets, taking a sip. “How was your date?”

He means to ask it as a genuine question, he really does, but a hint of bitterness seeps through, and when he turns to look at her, she’s crossing her arms.

“Seriously, Lucifer?” Her lips press tight for a moment. “You didn’t ask me here just to scold me for going to that concert with Pierce, did you?”

“I—” He isn’t quick enough with either apology or explanation, and she interrupts him.

“And it wasn’t a date, for the record.” She watches him as he stands, sets down his drink, and moves closer to her. “I went with him because he asked, and because I didn’t think you would.”

“I  _ wanted _ to go with you, Detective,” Lucifer protests, stopping so close to her that he could reach out and touch her shoulders, were he so inclined. “I even indicated as much—”

“Yeah,  _ after _ ignoring and insulting me all day.”

“Except for when I saved you.” The argument is automatic, and he feels again the stab of panic that struck him the moment the detective was in danger.

“Except for when you saved me,” she grants, dropping her arms to her sides. She sighs. She looks sad, and Lucifer wants nothing more than to stop hurting her. And after she knows, there will be no reason to hurt her. “Lucifer, you’ve been pushing me away.”

He needs to change the tone of the conversation if he wants it to be positive rather than desperate. “It’s like you said, Detective, the bomb—”

“You’ve been pushing me away for a lot longer than that, Lucifer.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears, and she crosses her arms again. “And sometimes I can ignore it, because no matter how erratic your behavior, I know that you…” She shakes her head, breathing, and breaks eye contact.

Lucifer takes a half step closer, all his anger and fear and worry and desperation washing away, to be replaced with a sudden sense of clarity and contentment. When she looks up at him, clearly waiting for a reaction to her unfinished statement, he gives in and puts his hands on her shoulders, his thumb stroking across the soft skin that covers her collarbone. “You know that I  _ what, _ Detective?”

His proximity seems to be affecting her more than usual, and he can’t help but take it as a good sign. She tries to speak again. “I know that…” She trails off once more, her eyes searching his.

There's never been a better opportunity. He can tell her everything right now. He considers the words he can use, how best to sweep her off her feet, to hit her with the truth in a way that doesn't frighten her, that makes her want  _ him.  _

Lucifer takes a deep breath, then releases it. It’s now or never. “I love you, Chloe,” he says simply, and elaborate plans vanishing, and Chloe’s eyes widen. He continues, rushing to fill the silence. “And I know I've done a piss poor job of showing it. I know I've been an ass and pushed you away, and you don't deserve that.”

“I  _ don't _ deserve that,” she agrees, finding her voice for a moment. “You…” The way she's looking at him does nothing to dispel his sense of calm. 

“I love you, Detective,” he says again, more emphatically this time. “I have from nearly the moment we met. But I've been afraid of what that means, of what it might do to me, of what it might do to  _ you.” _

Chloe’s eyes drop to his lips for the barest moment before returning to his. “What's to say you won't be afraid again? How do I know you won't pull away? How do I know you won't disappear entirely?” 

“I've learnt my lesson.” He runs his hands down her arms, stopping at her wrists. “I have been invulnerable for most of my life. Until I met you, I didn't feel pain, not like most people, and yes, it scared me once I did. I reacted badly. But Chloe…” He pauses. “Nothing has hurt more than watching you walk away with Marcus, knowing I might lose you forever. And that if I did, if you were truly happy with him instead of me, that I'd have deserved to lose you, for the way I've acted.”

“Lucifer,” Chloe breathes, “you idiot.”

She leans forward and presses her lips to his, and  _ oh.  _ It's not their first kiss, but it may as well be given the surge of electric need that makes its way through him. He loves her so much, and if she can forgive him for the right arse he's been, then she can accept who he really is, when he tells her. 

Later. After this kiss. Or maybe after the next. 

His hands make their way to her lower back, pulling her close, and hers find the back of his neck, her fingers sliding against sensitive skin as their lips explore. He's content, amazingly, to keep the kiss relatively chaste for some time. 

Chloe, however, seems to have other ideas. She deepens the kiss, leads them to a faster pace as she presses flush against him, and Lucifer hums, deeply okay with the situation. He utters an un-Devilish whine when she slows, then stops. 

“I love you too, Lucifer,” she tells him, and he's fairly certain he's never heard anything more beautiful in his life. As he’s a former resident of Heaven, that's saying something. 

“Chloe…” He can hear the awe in his own voice, and he lowers his face so his forehead rests against hers, and he closes his eyes. He should tell her, now, before something comes up (well, ahem, before something  _ else  _ comes up). He should show her his wings, prove he is who he says he is. “I need to tell you something.”

“It can wait,” she says, and when he lifts his head and opens his eyes, the way she's looking at him, eyes dark and lips loose, is enough to take his breath away. “Tell me in the morning,” she commands before dragging him toward her and pressing their mouths together once more. He responds enthusiastically, groaning in appreciation when she takes a hand and decisively moves his grip to her buttocks. 

Morning. He can tell her everything else in the morning. After all, the most important thing was that she know he loves her. He's already told her (and she has, amazingly, reciprocated), and now he's going to  _ show _ her exactly how much he feels.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the read through and feedback, GoingtotheTardis! I know I'm not the easiest to communicate with during a migraine.


End file.
